


Coping is Crucial

by Hungry_AloeLeaf



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Blackfoot dislikes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grieving, I don't mean this is in... a bad way, I'm not sure yet, M/M, Tigerclaw is not as bad here, Whitestorm is deputy, anyways what am i talking about, because i honestly don't know where redtail... went?, but Gray feels like a brick to me, but your comments bring me joy so i made a gift, cause ya didn't ask for a gift, do you even read these, feeeelllliiiiiinnnnggggggssssss, firegray!! right! I'm liking it a whole lot!, i love him but idk if i write him as well as i want to, i think i just gifted something!, i wanna give. more gifties, i'm a little worried, idk if it's exactly a lot of firegray yet but, is he dead? is he retired? idk, is it working?, it's more than the last one and we're getting there, see i'm trying to practice writing relationships, sorry if you had and continue to cringe through that, these tags are too long, uuuuggggghhhhhh, well he might still be a little bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hungry_AloeLeaf/pseuds/Hungry_AloeLeaf
Summary: Graystripe and Fireheart deal with Silverstream's death in different ways; Riverclan wants the kiddies, and Thunderclan's leader is pretty much off the clocka sequel of sorts to "Balance is Essential"may change this title though...
Relationships: Firestar/Graystripe (Warriors)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Coping is Crucial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [furk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/furk/gifts).



> yeah i will never not think of furk when i write these two

Stormkit and Featherkit are one day old now.

Never would he have thought that he would have to name his kittens himself.

Silverstream would be there, suggesting all sorts of hilarious names while their kits nestled to her, seeking her warmth.

He blinks the image of their kits soaked in her blood from his yellow eyes, tufted ears drooping.

“You know, I am sorry about… it.”

Graystripe glances up to find that somehow, Fireheart has managed to sneak to his side. The ginger tom’s typically bright gaze has darkened, and he’s staring out toward the nursery. The gray tom shifts towards his friend in interest.

“ _It?_ What is _it_ -”

“ _Yesterday, alright._ ” The small tom’s mew is irritated, yet still so hollow. He’s sounded like that since the horrors of yesterday, just devoid.

Graystripe is worrying over a lot right now, but Fireheart’s unusual behavior is certainly near the top of the list. He leans over, drawing his tongue over the fluffy ginger fur. His brain races to think of something to say, but what comfort is there?

He can’t say everything is fine.

His kits no longer have a mother. He can’t tell Fireheart not to fret over him, that he’s doing well despite everything, but he’s not. His mate, his world, is below the soil and up in Starclan but not with him.

Below him, Fireheart jerks away.

“I’m sorry about Silverstream. I’m sorry that I didn’t like her at first, but that was only because I didn’t want you to get in trouble and I didn’t trust her!” The gray warrior realizes that the emerald eyes are wet. “I mean, when I met her, she was amazing. And I’m so sorry, Gray…”

“What are you apologizing for?” The taller tom questions. “You did nothing but what you thought was best.”

“I know, but I gave you such a difficult time about her.” Fireheart’s shoulders dropped as if a badger were shoving them down.

“You also protected me, didn’t you?”

Fireheart falls silent once again. Graystripe nudges him gently, the ache in his heart easing at the thought of how his friend covered for him and Silverstream (well, mostly him at the time).

“There is absolutely nothing for you to be sorry for.” The striped tom mumbles, directing his gaze toward the nursery – where his kits were, probably suckling to Goldenflower instead of their own mother. “I caused this mess.” He sheathes his claws into the dirt, tensing. “If it weren’t for me, she would be alive! She would be right _here!_ ”

He glances at the spot in front of him, imagining her and their newborn kits at her feet. She’s smiling, blue eyes reflecting the lovely sky above.

Then Fireheart sweeps his tail to his and a warm ginger paw shadows his own.

“It wasn’t your fault either.” The emerald eyes narrow, gaining that fiery look of determination that’s so familiar to the gray cat. “You _know_ that. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t anyone’s. Births… go difficultly sometimes. No one could have anticipated it.”

“I know.” Graystripe’s mew is so small, even he himself could barely hear it. Tears blurred the image of Silverstream away; sorrow choking him, restraining any more words that would have managed to squeeze out.

Before he knows it, he’s crying. So terribly that his head begins to hurt after a few heartbeats.

Fireheart scoots even closer, causing their pelts to mush in a spray of dark gray and bright orange.

\---

Graystripe surely knew what else he didn’t anticipate – Riverclan attempting to claim his kits a few days later.

Stormkit and Featherkit are only squirming little furballs at this point. They’re blind as of now, and they don’t speak, but they’re his. His and Silverstream’s. Leopardstar takes no time pointing out the kits’ relation to their deceased mother.

“She was Riverclan’s jewel,” The spotted she-cat lifts her speckled nose at him. “The kits belong with us. We came to take them back to Riverclan to grow as warriors.”

Before Whitestorm, the deputy, can open his jaws, Fireheart’s indignant screech flies from the crowd clustered around them.

“That’s a load of badgerdung!” Orange pushes its way through the many duller pelts, and the smaller tom determinedly weaves his way to Graystripe’s side. “I’m quite sure Riverclan has a medicine cat, don’t they? Why would she risk everything to drag herself in the middle of labor to Thunderclan, only for you to snatch the kits away from their father? Why didn’t she go to your healer if she wanted them in Riverclan?”

An eternity of gratefulness wells in the gray tom’s chest, beside the righteous rage burning for his kittens. Leopardstar digs her claws into the soil, sleek fur rising along her spine.

“We do not know what was going through her mind at the time, of course.” The leader heaved out a shallow breath. “Her judgement may have been clouded, however, what she could not see is clear to us.”

Graystripe sets a paw forward.

“It’s clear to me that she wanted the kits here. She wanted to _be_ here!” His body quakes. “How dare you take advantage of her death to speak filth over her corpse? She _told_ me she wanted to be with me!”

“She sacrificed her life over nothing!” Leopardstar screams at him, cool exterior thrown to the wind. “She could’ve given birth to them in our camp! We could have cared for them properly!”

“Well, she certainly didn’t.” Fireheart’s mew sounds once more, rising in volume. “She did this because she wanted them here. You only want them to be your soldiers, but she needed them with their kin.”

“…I’m really getting no say in this?” Whitestorm finally interjected, whiskers twitching in amusement at the young warriors before his yellow gaze seared into the Riverclan cats. “As they’ve put it so kindly for you, no, you may not have these kits.” The typically calm deputy’s claws slid out of their sheathes. “I believe the talking has persisted enough. _Now leave._ Or we will remove you and your patrol by force.”

Joy exploded in Graystripe as the leader shoots them all an ugly look before summoning her patrol. When the last of the sleek tails slinks out of the hole in the bracken, a sudden weight rests on Graystripe’s shaggy pelt. Fireheart sighs, breath stirring the gray fur.

“Whew… thought we were going have to cave in a fish-face up in here…”

“You were definitely quite eager!” A laugh bubbles from the stormy gray warrior as he flicks his tail over the tufted ears. “You didn’t need to come to my defense like that, champion…”

“Only for you.” Fireheart snorts, but then his eyes widen and he glances up at Whitestorm. “Wait… why couldn’t Bluestar handle this? Is she still… feeling… unwell?”

The deputy solemnly lowers his head.

“You could say that.” Whitestorm straightens. “Her recovery is… slow, but perhaps it’s going well? Actually, never mind. Don’t you two have a patrol or something to be on, or do I have to give you two tick duty for interfering with matters between a leader and a deputy?”

Fireheart and Graystripe exchange quick glances before scrambling off in two separate directions.

\---

Graystripe waits until he spots Goldenflower plod off to the dirtplace, then slips through the small opening. His pupils expand when he spots his kittens wriggling beside the golden she-cat’s newborns.

Stormkit and Featherkit begin to mewl a little louder as he approached, little paws kneading at nothing. He carefully creeps around Goldenflower’s kits and plucks his own up by their scruffs. Settling down, he sweeps them to his rumbling chest with his tail, swallowed by a pool of purrs and affection.

“You guys missed me, didn’t you?” He nuzzles them both, biting back a squeak when a tiny striped paw claps over his nose. “Hey, I’m not a tree!”

Featherkit meows sharply in protest. Stormkit squirms beside her, a small paw shoving into her cheek.

The gray warrior chuckles, drawing his tongue over his son’s mussed up kitten fluff.

“Bet you guys can’t wait to open your eyes, huh?” He asks through vigorous licking. “You’ll get to see so many things. Like me… the sky…” He pauses. “Your mother’s eyes were that color.”

And the nursery is silent apart from Featherkit’s squeaking. Stormkit writhes under his paw, and Graystripe grants him another lick, sighing softly.

“Sorry. It’s just… hard to stop thinking about her.” He grips them tighter. “She was just here, and now – she’s gone so quickly? I can’t- I just can’t believe this is happening sometimes.”

Now both of them are quiet. Featherkit’s chewing on his toe bean with an air of thoughtfulness, and Stormkit’s expression has contorted into a pained grimace.

Graystripe sighs quickly. They can probably sense how upset he is, somehow.

“I… I just wish she was here to see you guys, that’s all.” He tucks them under his chin, closing his eyes. “She’d be so happy to mother you two. She’d be so happy to just… be _here_.”

\---

Fireheart leaves the warriors’ den at midnight.

Graystripe could be wrong. It was midnight, and his mind was foggy with sleep, and soon after his vision faded back into black.

But when he wakes up, the ginger tom’s cinnamon scent is masked with lavender.

And suddenly, he feels a lot less wrong.

\---

Fireheart stops talking to him _again_.

It doesn’t seem intentional, and it still hurts, and it may be mostly because they hardly cross paths as of late.

Graystripe dedicates all the free time he has to his kittens, and assumes his best friend is most likely off doing his own thing.

\---

Featherkit opens her eyes before Stormkit does.

They’re blue.

Like the sky.

\---

“I’m worried.” Fireheart’s mew snaps Graystripe’s attention away from his finch.

There’s a feather stuck in his muzzle fur and he flicks it away with a paw, raising a brow at the ginger tom.

“And where have you been?”

Fireheart’s emerald eyes grow wide.

“What are you talking about?” The ginger tom grins. “I’ve been in Thunderclan, silly!”

Graystripe only sighs. Fireheart sure was better at hiding things than he was, at least.

“What are you worried about?”

“Riverclan,” Fireheart says, false smile dropping. “She’s not going to leave it alone just like that. We detected their scent on the border this morning, and as far as I know, fish haven’t leapt from the river and flopped over here for them to catch.”

The finch is forgotten when Graystripe leaps to his feet, claws scoring the earth.

“They’ll have to get through me if they intend on that, then!”

“Me too!” Fireheart bounces on his toes eagerly. “It’s been a while since we had a good fight!”

The larger warrior faces away, anxiously flexing his claws.

“We have to be ready.” He glances toward the nursery, where the queens are supervising the kittens as they romp around outside. Where Featherkit chomps Stormkit’s ear as he flails to run away. “They are not taking them away. This is their home, and the place Sil intended them to be.”

“Leopard needs to mind her own business.” Fireheart huffs with a roll of his weary eyes. “It’ll stop when cats get tired of her nonsense.”

“Right.” Graystripe smiles along.

\---

Truth is, he’s worried.

About his kits and Riverclan. Fireheart. Even Bluestar and the state that the Clan will be in if she never recovers.

\---

The next night, Fireheart leaves again. He comes back just before a sliver of sunlight can crack the sky open with light, breathless and ruffled, green eyes full of sleepiness and wonder.

The ginger tom freezes once he realizes Graystripe is wide awake waiting, curly fur bushing in alarm. The gray warrior lowers his gaze.

“You should be careful. With Riverclan around and all.”

“Gray…” Fireheart begins, but he falls silent.

They return to sleeping, facing away from each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Boy, it was so fun to dibble and dabble in Merlin stuff, but Warriors is the trash heap where I belong! *leans back in pile of garbage* Booyeah, baby... savor the stink
> 
> I say that like I'm over Merlin which I'm clearly not. I crave a crossover once I get chance to do it!
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading if you made it this far! Comments, kudos, and bookmarks are always appreciated! Hope you have a nice remainder of your time on this planet :)
> 
> ...actually if someone said that to me that would sound like a threat. ACTUALLY just uh have a nice day/night or some normal farewell saying like that


End file.
